Soldiers of King Alfred's land,
Faithful ones who died;
Who in Holiest Presence stand,
Washed in crimson tide;
Even now you may have read
What God hath in store
For the race that Alfred led
Peerless prince of yore!

You that fought and would have died
Had it been God's will;
You, by fiery battle tried,
Who are with us still;
May He bless and guide your ways,
While our England's made
In the swiftly coming days
All that Alfred prayed!